Not Butler nor Master
by Idonquixote
Summary: The consequences of creating a demon are severe. And Hannah Anafeloz, along with all those involved, must face them. Everything must start over, with Claude Faustus serving Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis serving Alois Trancy.
1. Of Wings and Webs

**Thank you very much for clicking. Here goes nothing. (Constructive criticism is always welcome!)**

**Edit 1/7/13: Here it is folks, my first Kuro fic revamped. For my subscribers, here's the promise rewrite I was going on about from 2012.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji. Yana Toboso does.**

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><p>The pounding of his heart increasing with every step his bare soles made, Jim Macken skipped through the lonely meadow.<p>

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel," he whispered.

_Walk through a spider's web with an honest face…_

Dirty strands of yellow hair lifted from closed lids. Sticky white silk made contact with a snow white face. He smiled, a smile that came as easily as a butterfly flies through a cobweb. For what did the smile concern him? What did the butterfly matter? He had long since given up on the meaning behind it- happiness, life. A smile meant nothing.

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel…"

_Please, just one glimpse, just one chance,_

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel…"

_Please, please come… just once… even just once,_

Feathers were drifting in the air, covering nearly every dull inch of the meadow. His feet drowned in white feathers. Only the purest of the pure. Only the white touched him; the rest, the feathers that seemed to engulf the forest, were pitch black.

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><p>The tiny child desperately struggled against the hold of the masked men, thin limbs flailing to no avail as they beat him back down. He could see their maniacal grins through his blurred vision. He imagined the flames of hell curling around them and burning his body, licking him, consuming him. The pain.<p>

He could no longer tell reality from imagination; the pain was too much to bear, every bruise, every cut, every fracture that had been inflicted on his broken and starved form, screeched at him. Sickening screams filled the dark void. The child's own screams.

_Help me… please… anyone! Help me! _

The mangled bodies of defiled children lay on the floors, limbs twisted and bloodied. The stone slab was adorned with sickening things of all sorts. It was hell. The brandished dagger dug itself into porcelain skin.

_Please! No matter who! Help me… help me… help me!_

His eyes rolled backwards; pain shot through his exposed body. Crimson spilt over the slab, poured from his mouth. The last touch. The dirtied knife plunged into a wide eye. He could see nothing but red.

_It doesn't matter who! It doesn't matter how! Just help me!_

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><p>The pain stopped. He felt as light as a feather on a bird's wing. Cautiously, the boy opened both unharmed eyes. He was met with what he could only describe as an utterly empty void, a vacuum without light.<p>

Trembling, he tried to move his weak limbs. He was unpleasantly surprised to discover his body immobilized by long, sticky white strands. They caught him from his disheveled ebony locks to his small toes. A spider web.

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><p>Snowflakes fell lightly, mixing with the rain of feathers. Encompassed in shadow, Jim found himself almost hypnotically lying down on the bed of white feathers. Everything was too vivid, too much like an illusion for him to accept, but that didn't matter. He forced himself to believe this was real. Because he had to.<p>

Feathers stained with red fell near him. Curious, he picked them up and sniffed. Blood.

**"iT is tHoU whO suMmOns mE."**

It echoed throughout the meadow. Jim brought his glance to the source of the strange guttaral voice. It was a giant bird, a twisted image of a crow, no, raven. He couldn't bring himself to call it that; it was too majestic for such names. Jim continued to stare in awe at it, his view of its head blocked by folded dark wings.

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel…" he whispered.

"**ThoU hAst sUch a paTHetic soUl, dIsguStIng vErmiN**."

The comment stung ten times worse than Earl Trancy's beating. But he had already come so far, he had nothing left to lose.

"I know."

"**Thy minD is not As dull as I Hast thought**."

It was mocking him. Jim's mouth curved into a cold smirk.

"You're hurt."

"**I wOulD noT bE heRE otHerWise**."

"Then you need me."

There was no reply, but Jim could make out a muffled growl.

"**ThoU hAst suMmonED me. What iS tHy wIsH**?"

His eyes lowered. What wish? If he could have anything at all…

"I… I want Luka."

"**CoNtinUe**."

"My brother. He's dead."

"**I canNot dO tHat**."

He had no wish. Life was as hopeless as a butterfly without wings.

"Then I have none."

"**PathEtiC trAmP. No puRposE aNd yet so GreEdy. Thy soul Is so mEagEr in cOmParison tO**…"

The voice trailed off, forgetting the word.

_No… I have to do this, I need this _

"Please, give me another few days. I- I'll find a wish."

"**FiNe. cOme to mE in thREe day's tIme anD wE ShAll form thY conTRact**."

_Contract?_

The feathers dispersed, shadow reclining with it. Jim sank into the bed of white feathers, deeper and deeper until his vision was consumed. Reality was returning.

"W- wait!"

The sky was clearing. The white feathers were slowly fading out of view.

"Are you a fairy?"

The last thing Jim heard before falling into unconsciousness was a deep malicious chuckle.

"**Demon**."

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><p>The spider closed in on the boy, eight large legs brushing against his bare skin. The child shuddered.<p>

"**what iS yoUr wisH**?"

His head twisted until sapphire eyes stared directly into the hollow orbs of a humanoid face. It was smiling calmly at him, wildly grinning at him.

"You know what I want."

Chills overtook his body again as furry legs wrapped themselves around bony limbs.

"**sUch a delecTaBle soul. gIve me it and I wiLl grAnt your everY desire**."

The large spider shook in anticipation. That corrupted innocence, the awkward stubborn pureness, the hatred that vibrated throughout the small body, it was all so delicious. Exquisite. Tempting.

The hopeless rage boiled within the boy. What they had taken from him, what they had done to him, he would make them pay for it all.

"My name is Ciel Phantomhive. I- I don't have a wish!" he shouted, throat hoarse.

"I have a goal! Find the ones that sullied my name and do unto them what they did unto me!"

He paused. A flood of memories flashed past his head. They flew away as fast as a bird on gliding wings.

_I've… been here before…_

"This is my first order: kill them all!"

_But when?_

"All of them!"

His thoughts were interrupted by searing pain, coursing through his entire being. The heat rose in his right eye, spreading until he could no longer find the strength to scream.

Mismatched orbs shot open, striking orange contrasting with dark blue.

"**Yes, my master**."

The web dissolved, darkness morphed into black, and Ciel found himself back on the cold slab.

_Ciel Phantomhive… I finally have you_

Blood curdling screams erupted.

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><p>He was disgusting. Jim rolled onto his side with glazed eyes. The creature had been correct about him: he was nothing more than pathetic vermin.<p>

The sheets lay wet and tarnished under his skin. His thin bruised form only received solace from the cold night wind blowing in. Tired and sore, he tried to move away from the sleeping figure of his _father_.

_Was it worth it? _

He narrowed his eyes and forced himself to sit up. Stiff limbs dragged the soiled blanket off the bed. Carefully, he wrapped it around his naked self. It hurt.

_Three days time… _

Silent footsteps brought the blond toward the large window, the smell of impurity dampened by the chilly air. Rosy lips parted.

"Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel…"

He could make out the shape of a crow perched on a nearby tree, leaves dyed blue from the sky and rustling under the moon's light. There was something oddly familiar about it.

Everything will be different.

"**Is iT thy wish to fOrm a contRact**?"

His clutch on the blanket tightened. Everything will be different. A part of him knew everything would change that night, as if it had already been a part of the same scene.

"Yes."

He let the blanket drop to the floor. Everything will change. Reaching wildly, Jim stepped forward and gave a wild cry.

"_Yes, your highness."_

The phrase passed through his mind as fast as a spider's thread is cut. All thoughts were pushed out of his head by the pain that exploded in his mouth.

"**ThEn mAsteR, thY wish is mY coMmAnd**."

A pentagram of lavender light embedded itself in a protruding tongue.

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><p>"Claude Faustus, is it?"<p>

The bespectacled man simply nodded, golden eyes never leaving the boy before him.

"I am the master, demon. And as such, do not make any more naming decisions without my consent."

The tone of authority coming from such a small figure made the servant's innards twinge with excitement. Every command that came from the petal-like mouth, every haughty action that came from his lily white body, every slight movement of his sculpted face, added a new flavor to that seasoned soul.

"I apologize, milord."

Ciel frowned, pale legs crossed, as he fingered the bandages on his head.

_I know this feeling…_

Claude bent down and brushed the boy's hair, running gloved fingers through strands as silky as fine spider thread. Ciel visibly flinched from the contact. The butler brought his hand to the child's neck, slowly bringing the other over and unbuttoning the shirt, the last obstacle, on the boy's body.

"Claude, what are you-"

A hand closed around Ciel's lips, spidery fingers pressing his cheek.

"Please relax, master."

The butler pulled the nightshirt down, eyes lighting with delight at the dollish skin, bruised and scarred, its largest blemish the branded mark etched into half healed flesh. His lips parted in anticipation.

Unable to struggle, the young nobleman only shivered as he felt Claude's long tongue trace his ear and down his neck. The devil lost himself in arousal, rapidly targeting any part of the boy's body he could reach. Tongue touching, hand pressing, neckline, back, front, hair, feet, _possession_.

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><p>The boy dropped another sugar cube into the teacup. There was more than enough sugar in it already. Golden locks lay clean and combed as a soft face met vermillion eyes.<p>

"Then you have decided, Jim Macken?" asked the black clad man.

The boy's grip tightened, his brooding hatred for the man before him growing with each passing moment.

"My name is Alois Trancy."

The man smiled, charming features moving in mockery.

"I wish to find the one who killed my brother…"

He poured the tea onto the floor, cubes abandoned.

"Very well, _milord_."

"And what should I call you?"

"Whatever you wish."

Quietly, almost cruelly, Alois narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. He would not give this monster the pleasure of getting the best of him; he would never be looked down upon again.

"Sebastian."

The man's taunting eyes blinked slightly at the statement.

"May I ask why, master?"

Alois lifted his chin, smirking from the chair.

"Look at that picture behind you."

Without complaint, the demon turned around and glanced. He couldn't help but smirk at the boy's morbid sense of humor.

"The old fart told me who that was, the one on the corner, with arrows sticking out of him here and there. That's Saint Sebastian."

The man stayed expressionless.

"I'm naming you after a _saint_, devil."

The voice contained more force than necessary.

"Does that not make you mad?"

More forcefully. Maliciously.

"My name is Sebastian Michaelis, head butler of the Trancy household, and what kind of servant would I be if petty insults got the better of me?"

The boy's eyes widened. Rage bit at his body. The kettle was thrown at the man, cracking into several large pieces on the floor.

There was a hint of a smirk on Sebastian's face. A bitter, cold smile.

"Michaelis was a rather well known exorcist, milord. I think the surname will only add to your take on irony."

Alois didn't reply. He knocked the teacup to the ground.

"This is an order, Sebastian. Clean- no, _lick_ it up."

Eyeing the blond with disdain, the butler knelt to the ground and lowered his head with surprising grace. It only infuriated Alois further. Even so, it was his chance to smirk.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, that's all for now. Hope it was worth your time. Next chapter, the reason behind the "switcheroo" will be explained.**

**Edit 1/7/13: The revamp has officially begun! This is the first edited chapter. The others will be re-uploaded soon before we move on to bigger things. Thanks for reading and reviews are more than welcome!**


	2. Of Books and Souls

**Thank you for clicking. And much much thanks to the reviewers- your comments were like honey to the bee that is this story :D ****Since this story is anime-based, I made Undertaker a shinigami (we may not know what he truly is until the manga ends)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji. Yana Toboso does.**

**EDIT 1/10/13: Ok, Undertaker is a shinigami in the manga and anime. Good. So now here's the new and improved chapter 2!**

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><p>"<em>siLLy bIrd," drawled the demon, eight legs spread apart. He crawled forward, a monstrous shape in the dark.<em>

_Feathers vibrating, the other demon chuckled in response, talons bared._

"_StuPId SpiDER."_

_In the hellish blackness, teeth snapped as fangs bared and feathers fell as strings snapped. _

"_I fOund _him_ FIRst," growled the _raven_'s disoriented voice._

"_thE boY beloNGs to mE!"_

_They clashed again, both demons massacering any and all in their path, breaking claws and cutting legs. The _spider_ weaved his web, trapped the _raven_, and in return, the _raven_ flapped his wings, hit the _spider_. Their eyes burned red._

"_tHat deLiCIous soUl, that PRecIous meal…" said the raven._

_They slashed at one another. They dodged and hit and blocked and hit again._

"_iT's MINE!"_

_The _raven _cut the threads as his talons dug into the _spider_'s flesh. Roaring in pain and anger, the spider fell, web collapsing about him. The _raven_ laughed, loudly, coldly, spitefully. Feathers became shadows in the dark, black upon black, as the demon went away. A soul was waiting to be contracted, to be eaten, and the _raven_ had wasted enough time fighting the _spider_ to get to it._

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><p>"This can't be right," the reaper muttered, flipping through the book in his hands, his crimson-haired partner fuming behind him.<p>

William grit his teeth in agitation. Ciel Phantomhive was on his list. And the boy was doing very interesting, for lack of better word, things to the list.

"Demons," he growled, snapping the book shut with one hand.

"-and really, Will, what am I supposed to do with a lollipop? A drab one at that? Can you believe we just missed Sebby, he was right there a moment ago! Like I'm supposed to care whether the brat died or not- age 13, August blah blah, how showy! And why does Ronald get a vacation? Will, Will, are you listening?"

Grell let the striped box, along with the card detailing Earl Phantomhive's death, fall to the ground. He flipped his long hair back and turned his attention back to his superior.

"Will, are you listening?"

Without warning, William grabbed the flamboyant red coat, and pulled the other death god toward him, their noses touching. Grell blinked. He grinned.

"Oh- oh my, my, William…" the redhead started, eyelashes batting. William glared.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, please put it out of your demented head."

Grell pouted.

"Jim Macken is on your list, Mr. Sutcliffe. You told me he was contracted to a demon called Faustus. Did you reap his soul?"

"Well… about that, Will, you see, well…"

"I thought so!"

William let his partner go. He pushed his glasses up with his scythe. He had an inkling of what was going on, and he did not like it.

"Michaelis was here a moment ago. After him."

Grell made a noise of high-pitched excitement as the reapers charged forward.

"You're the best boss ever, Will!"

"I regret my decision already."

"Oh, Will, you're such a tease!"

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><p>The ancient death god, the one known as Undertaker, chuckled mirthfully, long fingers tracing the dust on the book of doomsday. The book shook against the contact as past, present, and future trembled.<p>

"Interesting," the Undertaker mused, "I barely remember the last time this happened." He cackled.

_Over a millennia ago. Yes, that's right. _

The Undertaker opened the dusty book, and eyes concealed behind white locks scanned page after page. Page after page. Until he came to the words "Hannah Anafeloz… demon… Phantomhive… nirvana."

He chortled. The word nirvana tickled his humor. He picked up the pen and tried to write, to see if there was even a possibility of fixing the situation. The ink would not show.

And the Undertaker laughed because it was far from funny.

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><p>"Yes, my lord."<p>

Without a trace of emotion, the demon jumped down the cliff, his charge in his arms. The human once known as Ciel Phantomhive refused to close his eyes- he would have eternity to do so.

Alone and desolate. Both demons felt the pang as the field of black and white roses swirled around them, their petals once red now so dull and haunting. Symbols of a life denied and a prize cheated.

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><p>Jim Macken, Alois Trancy, none of that mattered anymore. The boy skipped along the bright meadow, everywhere and nowhere. The sky was real yet artificial, false and true, like promises in the dark and laughter in dreams, the colors bright yet dull, and voices heard yet muted. None of that mattered anymore.<p>

Alois held his brother's hand as the two danced. The demon once known as Claude Faustus lay near them, face blank. Next to him lay the demon once called Hannah Anafeloz, weak and happy.

"Do you remember what happened last time one tried?" he asked.

"I had not yet come into being."

"Neither had I. But doesn't it strike fear?"

"No."

"It scares me. Angels are meant to be angels and demons are meant to be demons. Humans are meant to be humans. And to mess with that balance, that is something we demons are forbidden to do, by both the laws of heaven and hell."

"Claude, what are you trying to say?"

"Demons are made for sin. Every action has a negative connotation. And what you did to Ciel Phantomhive, no good can come from it."

Hannah sat up, gazing at the frolicking children before them.

"The last time a demon converted another, there was an uproar. That soul was denied judgment, denied rest, denied destruction. It was a challenge to the heavens."

"And the heavens fought, thus the demons lost. The tarnished soul erased and history continued, forever different than what once was," she finished for him, remembering the ancient saying.

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><p>"Ciel Phantomhive's lifespan is listed as eternal!" William shouted over the buzzing of Grell's scythe. "Turn that thing off- we don't need it yet!"<p>

"Fine!"

"His life cannot be eternal- it's impossible! And neither can Jim Macken's!"

The death gods leaped over another set of trees.

"Such conversions are prohibited!"

"Why?"

"You should remember, Sutcliffe! It changes the world's events, warps it all, and therefore upsets the collection of souls- I can't allow that to happen!"

"I never believed in that!"

Before William could reply, he caught a glimpse of a tailcoat. Adjusting his glasses with the scythe, he made one last leap forward, Grell directly behind him, the force of their jump sending rose petals flying up toward the darkening sky.

"Sebastian Michaelis!" he bellowed.

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><p>The Undertaker was back in his shop, shrouded by the overlapping shadows of coffins. He could hear the chiming of a grandfather clock. Somewhere back in the reaper library, the book of doomsday was rewriting itself.<p>

And lying in his coffin, the Undertaker knew that what was to come would be twice as difficult as what had already happened.

"Always the center of attention, aren't you, earl?" he whispered to himself. The death god held his breath.

_Let's see how good our memories are. Should be fun._

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><p>Everything stopped.<p>

Ciel gasped as his plummet downwards came to an abrupt halt. He could feel Sebastian recoil from shock.

Then they fell, shot backwards.

Petals flew past him, the roses swirling too fast for even his newfound vision to catch, and then the strangest sensation of pain that he'd ever felt.

As if his life was grabbed by an invisible string, and pulled back, everything flew away from the imp's falling body. As if a bird had been shot. As if an ocean had been sucked dry. As if he was the glass of wine and its contents had been removed with one definitive gulp.

Trancy, the ball, Elizabeth, Madame Red, the reapers, Sebastian, contracts, Abberline, Jack the Ripper, Viscount Druitt, undertaker, his death, the queen, his birthday, his mother, his father, Angela, Ash, his servants, Tanaka, Lau, all of it. He lost his grasp on all of it; everything sucked away, and he felt, saw, it all rearrange, going back to the core, his birth, his parents' death, the fire, slavery. That's right, he was a captive, someone was hurting him.

And now he was being pinned to a stone slab.

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><p>The seams of nirvana fell apart. Clouds became nothing, and nothing became everything. Noises died out, visions blurred. Colors melded.<p>

The blond boy was pulled apart from his brother. The world, everything that had been around him, blasted away. Fingers reached, grabbed, and broke apart. An endless chasm of voids and clouds.

Claude, Hannah, Luca, the old earl, the sheets, the streets, Ciel, demons, swordfights, bitter tears, loving tears, London, countryside, the urchins, bullies, fires, death, parents. They all flashed past him with surprising life, vividness.

Earl Trancy. He was lying in Earl Trancy's basement, curled in a cot between several other boys.

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><p>They slashed at one another. They dodged and hit and blocked and hit again.<p>

"iT's MINE!"

The raven cut the threads as his talons struck at the spider's flesh. The spider dodged and sliced the raven's flesh with a dangling thread. The raven gasped in pain and frustration, entangled in the bloodied web. The spider laughed maliciously. Cobwebs became shadows in the dark, black upon black, as the demon went away. A soul was waiting to be contracted, to be eaten, and the spider had wasted enough time fighting the raven to get to it.

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><p><strong>Hope that clears things up- hopefully, it wasn't too confusing or against canon. <strong>**Again, thanks for reading, and reviews (and constructive critic.) are welcome.**

**EDIT 1/10/13: Here is is, the improved chapter 2! Sorry for the wait. After chap 3, I'll be removing the 2 A/Ns.**


	3. Of Servants and Masters

**I don't own Kuroshitsuji. Didn't get any reviews last chapter, but apparently people are indeed reading this, so I'll upload what I have anyway. This chapter, we set up some more background.**

**Edit 1/12/13: Thanks for all the kind reviews, guys! I keep the A/Ns the same for nostalgia's sake but you can just pay attention to the ones with "edit" by them. Here's the new chapter 3!**

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><p>The first time that Ciel had struck his butler was the first time they returned to his father's manor. It had stung his twitching palm and left his arm shaking. But Ciel Phantomhive had been too angry to care.<p>

Claude smiled, golden irises widening.

"Claude!" the boy screeched, hand caming to rest at his side, balled into a tight fist, the skin stretching over whitening knuckles. "How dare you, how dare you!"

"Dare I what, master?"

"You- you killed him," the young earl whispered, lips trembling with rage.

"But milord, the old man was of no use to you. We have no need for him."

"You had no right. There was no command! No order!"

Claude stooped so that he could face his charge. Ciel looked away. Spidery fingers stroked the earl's face. The butler lowered his voice.

"Why do you need him alive, master?"

Ciel froze. He heard Claude's chuckling beside him, felt Claude's hands yet again running down his back, felt Claude's tongue poking his ear, felt Claude's breath against his neck.

"Enough," the earl said quietly.

Reluctantly, slowly, the demon stepped away, heated gaze never leaving the boy.

"This is an order. Find me more servants."

Ciel didn't wait to hear his butler's reply. He marched up the stairs, trying to purge the memory of Tanaka's snapping neck out of his mind.

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><p>"Ciel, I have to tell you something," the girl said, golden curls bobbing as she bowed her head, fluttery eyes flashing with a primeval fear.<p>

Across the tiny round table, Ciel set his cup down. Elizabeth met his gaze. And for a moment, it was as if the tea parlor had stretched into infinity, a hulking haunted place too large for both children.

"I don't like Claude, Ciel."

"Lizzie, he's just a butler."

"No, Ciel, I-I'm scared of him."

Elizabeth said no more about Claude after that. She couldn't explain the feeling of foreboding, fear, of being the prey to an unknown predator. She couldn't explain how she felt when she saw Claude look at Ciel, that same sick emotion, the notion that the butler was hurting her beloved, that he was not even supposed to be there.

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><p>The Trancy Estate felt strangely familiar. And Hannah Anafeloz, even as she stood before the strangely familiar demon named Sebastian, couldn't quite understand why she felt as if she had done the exact same thing a lifetime ago. Thompson, Timber, and Canterbury stood obediently behind her, loyal and silent.<p>

"I have no intention of sharing my master," Sebastian stated coldly.

"I'm not asking you to."

Lavender blue eyes hardened.

"I did not contract Jim Macken- you beat me to it. I am merely asking for a chance to serve him. My own servants will assist me."

Sebastian scoffed.

"I'm not an imp. No demon will serve without pay. What do you really want?"

"That is all I want."

The dark haired demon smirked in grim amusement.

"And what incentive do I have to use you? If it's for mere appearance, I can hire humans. If it's for labor, I alone am enough."

"Then would you prefer to fight me, Sebastian Michaelis?"

Sebastian rushed forward, catching Hannah's throat in a steel grip, and in a flash of black, pinned her to the wall. The other demons stood rooted to the spot, awaiting their mistress's order.

"Wait," she wheezed, "I- I know who killed Luca Macken."

"Who?" he demanded.

Hannah smirked in return. Sebastian tightened his hold on her throat.

"I'll tell you when- when I'm ready."

With a snarl, Sebastian let go and stepped back as Hannah sank to the floor coughing.

"That was what you wanted to say all along, wasn't it?"

"Perhaps it was."

"I suppose it serves me right for being goaded. Fine. _Hannah_," the butler began, shooting a glare at the other demon, "seeing as the Trancy estate is in need of more servants, if I do let you and your slaves serve my master, tell me why you're so fixated with this human."

Hannah stood up, a soft smile playing on glossed lips.

"I too am in search of Luca Macken's killer. You could say that I loved that child, him and his brother."

Sebastian eyed her with disgust.

"Do not lie to me. _You're_ Macken's killer, aren't you?"

"I will not confirm nor deny. If your (our) master wishes to find Luca's killer, it doesn't matter who you accuse. His goal will be unaccomplished if you cannot find a definite answer."

Voice laced with disdain, Sebastian replied. "I don't tolerate slacking servants. Your work starts now; the master wants a garden."

He walked past the new maid, ignoring her morphing smile- _smirk_.

"And Hannah, if I find even the slightest piece of evidence, the slightest confirmation that what I believed was true," he added lowly, "you are dead."

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><p>Claude had claimed to find these servants by instinct, that he had a feeling they would be perfect for the manor. Ciel didn't know whether or not to believe him. Finnian was the new gardener, a supposed science experiment, could not plant a flower to save his life, Bardroy was the new cook, a retired soldier who couldn't make a decent meal to save his life, and Maylene was the new maid, a former sniper who couldn't carry dishes to save her life. They screamed incompetence.<p>

And against all common sense and reason, Ciel did not allow himself the satisfaction of ordering Claude to find other servants. He didn't know why, but somehow, the three made him feel at ease. He supposed it was because Claude had promised that their other abilities would be of use.

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><p>The copper-locked boy shivered from the merciless night air as he rested his blistered feet. Two months since he left Earl Trancy's manor (<em>set free<em> as the tail- coated man had said). Again, he found himself on the streets, huddled behind dark alleys, and starved beyond comprehension. While the blond boy became an aristocrat, the master of Trancy manor- a fairy tale come true.

Fate was cruel to him; it always had been and he knew it always would be.

"You're a very bitter boy, aren't you?" asked a feminine voice.

He looked up. Grey eyes met violet. The woman stared down at him kindly, short white hair and angelic features aglow.

"I can help you," she said, extending a soft hand, "what is your name?"

The boy continued to stare, as if struck dumb. Light and comfort. Things he had always been denied.

"P-peter, Peter Linton."

Things that he would do anything to have.

"My name is Angela. Angela Blanc."

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><p><strong>an OC! But technically not because he was there all along, just without a speaking role. The anime never said what happened to old Trancy's other boys, and Claude supposedly set them free (but I think he killed them since he probably found that easier). <strong>  
><strong>In this alternate timeline, Sebastian literally set them free because he didn't feel like killing them (or was too lazy totoo upset over losing Ciel's soul to Claude to).**

**Edit 1/12/13: So what did happen to the slaves? We'll find out. And it doesn't really matter whether or not Sebastian/Claude actually set them free because in this timeline, that's what happens. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Of Faces and Ribbons

**New update! Here, we finally kick off with the "present." I have a request though: I need to know how many people truly enjoy this story, so if you do, leave a comment. I'll keep updating this summer because my fingers have the inspiration but once I lose that, there's nothing stopping this from becoming a dead fic, so please let me know if you want this fic to live~**

**Here's the next chapter, finally! Just a quick note: Peter is NOT the Peter from the circus arc. Also, please review if you want to comment or if you want this fic to live throughout the year.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji**

**Edit 1/17/13: The new chapter 4 is up- it's been combined with the previous chapter 5.**

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><p>The Duke of Albemarle rolled across the sheets gasping for air.<p>

_I'm dying… I'm dying… I'm dying!_

Vessels broke. Blood gushed from a royal nose, running down the face, choking the throat. Crimson stained the bed and dyed the young duke's hand as he lay flopping like a fish without water.

"Your highness!"

Cool hands smoothed the boy's forehead. Gentle caresses on sweaty skin. A cloth was against his nose. Hands lifted him up.

"Relax, your highness, you are fine. You are fine," coaxed a soft voice.

The bleeding stopped. The maid held her young charge, pressing the cloth to his nostrils, cleaning all traces of red before bringing it to his hand.

"A- Angela," he mumbled, transfixed with her treatment of his dirty hand. The cloth glazed over it, sure to rub the spots off his fingers.

Gently, the woman lifted the duke from his bed. Specks danced before his eyes. The last things he saw before they claimed his vision were fine silk pillows, a high soft bed, velvet curtains, all he ever wanted.

"Angela," he whispered, eyes rolling back.

* * *

><p>"Claude, this is an order!" the young earl snapped abruptly.<p>

Reluctantly, the bespectacled butler stopped in his tracks. Ciel whirled around to face him, hard blue eye glowering, dark cloak fluttering.

"Do not follow me."

"But milord-"

"An order!"

Ciel turned his head and walked on, leaving Claude behind. Lowering his head, he let the rim of the tall hat shade his vision. There was no need for him to see the smoggy gray sky, the dirty red buildings, the filthy peasants.

Abberline was dead. The funeral was over.

The Earl of Phantomhive wished he had declined the invitation.

_He saved your life_

Frederick Abberline was a fool and fools did not deserve to live. Because only a fool would save Ciel Phantomhive, only a fool would try to salvage a soul destined to burn.

Lau was dead.

There would be no more annoying visits from the Chinaman, no more abrupt comments, no more odd associations. His strange humor. All that was gone.

_Cheh. He deserved it._

He was one of the few people the earl dared call an ally. Their deaths bothered him more than they should. The world would be better off without fools and traitors. _Without demons_.

Ciel would never admit it to anyone but in that lonely moment, when he again became a boy alone in the hellish place called Earth, he realized that their deaths brought on a sickening feeling. The same feeling that had plagued him when Madame Red died, when Tanaka died, when his parents died.

The images came back: Abberline stabbed, Lau diving into the water, Tanaka's head twisting, Madame Red sliced open, his parents burned.

Ciel shuddered in spite of himself. Claude had been there, present at all deaths but his parents'. The demon had stood emotionless the whole while. He remembered Claude's stoic face as Madame Red fell, his mechanical speech when Abberline died, his level head when he grabbed Tanaka.

Claude was everywhere. Plaguing his dreams with spiders, weaving a web in every corner of his mind. Ciel walked on, unable to stop the memories.

Claude's fingers straddling his torso, stroking his face, the tongue dirtying his body. Ciel thought about the night of his aunt's death, of Claude _comforting_ him, licking his temples. There was not a single part of him that Claude had not touched. The demon's presence haunted him everywhere, inside and out.

Elizabeth's words still lingered in his head. Once the girl had told him Claude did not belong with the manor. Ciel couldn't compose the sense logically but he knew she was right, that somehow, Claude should never have been there, at the manor, at the deaths.

"Watch out!"

Startled, the earl stopped. He looked up, straight ahead. The call had originated from his left. He didn't have time to identify the owner of the voice.

A carriage charged at him. The horses neighed, hooves galloping. A driver desperately trying to change their course.

The lone blue eye widened.

The collision of wheels. A top hat fell.

* * *

><p>The Trancy butler leisurely made his way from the tiny bookstore. He had no intention of hurrying for his master. The Earl of Trancy had demanded he receive a new copy of "Oliver Twist." There was already a copy in the estate, left by the late Earl Trancy. And Sebastian doubted his charge was capable of reading so many words.<p>

If anything, it was just a task to irritate him. Alois was a sadistic, spiteful boy. The earl never specified when he wanted his butler to return with the book. Sebastian planned to make him wait. A game of spite between human and demon.

Something within him tingled. Amber eyes flashed red.

He knew this sensation, reveled in it. The feeling that had resulted in his current contract, the one that had started the duel between spider and raven.

_It's the boy, it's-_

The soul's owner, the noble child walking down the street. The name was lost on the demon's lips.

The humans occupying the street parted to allow the passing of a speeding carriage. The young aristocrat did not budge. One of the humans noticed, a man with a beard the color of mud. "Watch out!"

The cry of warning reached the child too late. The horses were upon him.

"Oliver Twist" fell to the ground.

Instinctively, strangely, desperately, the demon leapt, dashed with all the speed he could muster. Some raw sense within him needed to see the boy safe.

A dumb and unexplainable decision. The child's own contractor would have done the same. Even had he been hit, the butler would not, should not have cared.

Regardless, Sebastian pulled the child to his chest. The top hat fell as they leapt out of the way. Horses crashed into barrels of fruit.

* * *

><p>It felt right. Had death been so kind? Had his soul been taken? Had he been saved? Ciel breathed heavily against a man's chest. He was wrapped in warm arms. For the first time in so long, he felt safe. It felt right.<p>

The sapphire eye opened. An ivory face met his vision. Crimson eyes looked down at him, uncertain. An unknown sense of familiarity passed between the two.

"Ciel Phantomhive," the man murmured as if remembering a fact long lost.

"I am," the boy replied, trying hard to regain his composure.

_I know him._

The man set him down gently, stooping by his side. He inspected Ciel briefly.

"You're alright."

The young earl nodded, legs shaking subtlety. The man's face was painfully familiar.

"Who are you?"

"Sebastian Michaelis, the head butler of house Trancy."

_Trancy. Where have I heard that name?_

"Young master!" interrupted an angry voice.

Claude Faustus stood before the pair, eyes flashing dangerously. Sebastian returned the glare. Claude bared his teeth.

"Sebastian Michaelis, keep to your own master."

The animosity permeated the air. Sebastian sneered.

"And where were you a moment ago, _Claude_?"

The name resonated like a curse. Claude made a noise of disdain.

"Near. I can handle the safety of my own master just fine."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, smirk playing across his face. He was cut off by Ciel.

"Claude, you disobeyed me," he said icily.

"Apologies milord, but I was-"

"I don't care what you were doing. I ordered you not to follow me."

"You were in danger."

"I came out fine, did I not?"

The earl held his head high, regarding his servant coldly. Sebastian rose to his feet behind him. Claude's eyes blared red upon seeing the other demon's arrogant smirk.

Casting Sebastian one last threatening glower, Claude bowed his head. Ciel walked toward him, legs still numb with trembling.

"Claude, take me home."

Hesitantly, he looked back at the one called Sebastian. Again, the face struck something within him, almost as if he had seen it in a childhood memory. The strange emotion passed in an instant.

"And Mr. Michaelis," he said, trying hard to keep his voice level, "thank you."

Sebastian returned the comment with a bow. He could sense Claude's agitation. He relished in the other's suffering.

* * *

><p>Starvation. The incident with Ciel Phantomhive had only further reminded him of his hunger. The demon licked his lips as he mused over the moment he first noticed that soul. Delicious.<p>

A book was chucked at the butler's head.

"Oy! Are you listening, Sebastian?"

Angry pools of sky glared at him. "Yes, master." Alois fell back into the chair, arms folded across his chest, huffing indignantly. "I asked for a new copy! You call this piece of dirtied shit _new_!" Another rant.

Sebastian inspected the copy of "Oliver Twist," smirking as his charge's cries fell on deaf ears. "And taking so long in coming back! You should be glad I'm not whipping your arse!"

"Master, this is indeed a new copy. There was an incident on the street and even I cannot stop the forces of nature."

"Bullshit!"

"Now, now, master. It's unfitting for a noble of your stature to use such colorful language. It would be best for your image if you did not compromise the Trancy house."

Sebastian sidestepped as a bottle of ink narrowly missed his face.

* * *

><p>Ciel re-read the letter several times, fingers tapping against the wooden desk. Claude stood before him, golden eyes fixed on his dollish master.<p>

"So he exists, the Duke of Albemarle," the earl commented.

"Yes," Claude agreed.

"Tell me, Claude. Are the stories true?"

"Yes. The duke is an adopted member of the royal family. And he is known for being in poor health. The title of Albemarle has been discontinued for quite some time, that is, until Charlamagne Linton came of age. No other information is available on him beyond that. Does my lord wish for me to investigate further?"

Long fingers reached for the table, curling around the child's hand. A wince from the master. A twitch of a smile from the servant.

"No. You're dismissed."

"But milord, you have yet to tell me of your plans."

Glove on skin. The demon bent forward, tightening his grip.

"If the duke wishes to see me, then I shall go. There is no plan. His letter is not clear- I want to know why he requires my presence."

Claude licked his charge's cheek, fingers stroking the sapphire ring. The exquisite diamond, as rare as the soul before him.

"I- I said you're dismissed."

"But milord."

"Go."

It was intoxicating, the scent of the noble. A spider lost in its own web of pleasure. The prey so tightly bound it could no longer resist. More caresses. Claude could feel the vibrations of his own body as he ran his hands over Ciel Phantomhive, careful not to leave a single wrinkle on the boy's clothes, not to leave a single hair out of place.

"But my lord," he purred, "I want to greedily devour you to the very end."

* * *

><p>"The master's very mad," Thompson said.<p>

"He has quite a temper," his brother replied.

"Good thing he's not yelling at us this time," their other brother replied.

"But Sebastian deserved it."

"Yes, Sebastian likes to push the master."

"So childish."

"The master doesn't like to hear you talk," interjected a fourth voice.

The triplets turned their attention toward Hannah as she entered the room. They were offered a small smile.

"Give this to the master, later."

She placed a small package in Canterbury's hand. Wrapped in velvet and tied with indigo ribbons.

"So delicate."

"Yes, it looks so pretty."

"Hannah has a lot of time on her hands."

They closed their mouths again when Hannah brought a tan finger to her lips.

_Hannah has full lips._

_And big breasts._

_Her clothes cover too much._

_The clothes are dumb._

"It's a new copy of Oliver Twist, the golden-lined edition."

Hannah turned around. "Make sure the master gets it."

* * *

><p>Alois let his head rest on the desk, golden locks falling messily around his head. Half lidded eyes stared lazily at his butler.<p>

"Read it aloud to me."

"Forgive me for saying so, master, but it would help your vocabulary immensely if you decided to partake in reading yourself."

"Shut the hell up."

The boy's gaze fell on the puddle of ink staining the carpet, a reminder of the afternoon's incident. Sebastian held the letter up and proceeded to read.

"To the Earl of Trancy,

I am greatly impressed with your conduct as the new Earl Trancy. I did not know the late earl very well nor will I pretend to but from our limited acquaintance, I regard him as a model gentleman and a noble of the greatest principles. His loyalty toward her majesty, the Queen, is a feat to marvel at. Never has he refused or questioned an order. I offer my sincerest condolences at the loss of such a father.

As you know, Alois Trancy, there have been skeptics of your lineage but I believe that you are without a doubt, the true Trancy heir. You have been the pinnacle of a good host and aristocratic conduct, so I have gathered. I apologize that I must make this letter so brief but I am under orders to give you your task as the Queen's spider in person. I have given the address of my residence at the end of this letter- I invite you to visit me tomorrow morning for further introductions and the specifics concerning this task. The Earl of Phantomhive will also be joining our meeting. For now I must bid you farewell; I look forward to meeting you and perhaps sharing a cup of tea.

His excellency,

Peter Charlemagne Linton, Duke of Albemarle."

Alois lifted his head. Sebastian placed the letter on the table.

"Would you like me to read the address as well?"

"No."

"It's a bit odd that a duke is involved."

"I could care less."

The boy shoved the lamp off his desk. He smirked as it crashed, splintering and scattering over the ground. The corner of Sebastian's mouth visibly twitched.

"Clean it up, Sebastian. And clean the ink too. I hate messes."

"I will arrange for your journey to the duke's residence in an hour's time. Seeing as I will be occupied with cleaning your messes, Hannah will prepare your dinner."

Alois hopped out of the chair. He made his way across the room, purposely crunching the pieces of the lamp with his boot.

"I hate that bitch's cooking!"

A slap. Sebastian smirked. The blonde earl delivered a kick to the demon's shin. His temper would not be contained.

"Clean this up in a minute! That's a damn order!"

"Don't forget our conversation about language, master."

"Stop talking back to me! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Nobody in particular, master. I am but one hell of a butler."

Alois kicked him again. He was the master and no demon would turn that fact into a joke. The earl pushed the doors of his office open. And found himself face to face with who he believed to be Timber.

"What the hell do you want?"

A velvet package was placed in his hands. Enraged blue eyes continued to glare at the triplets as the ribbons were torn gracelessly away. Velvet ripped and shredded, floating to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

A golden lined edition of Oliver Twist flew at Sebastian's head.

* * *

><p><strong>And they finally meet! Hope you enjoyed that and thanks for clicking.<strong>

**Edit 1/17/13: Thanks for sticking with me! **


	5. Of Meetings and Marble

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone. Thanks a thousand fold! Every review will help this fic live! :D  
>That being said, here's chapter 6.<strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji**

**Edit 1/18/13: New chapter 5 is up!**

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><p>Dirty hands clawed at stone walls. Sallow cheeks and hollow eyes. The children shrank back against the cold dank floor as footsteps approached. Echoes of fine boots. Chains rattled.<p>

Vague light poured in as the dusty door opened. The duke approached them, the glowing maid at his heels. A dark, skinny child crawled forward, helplessly pulling on the fabric of the noble's silk clothing. He was kicked aside.

"Please," he begged. Another kick.

"Don't you dare put your filthy hands on me!"

"Please…"

"Andrew. Where's Andrew?"

The boy in question offered no reply. Peter walked toward the figure huddled in the shadows. Light blue eyes made contact with vibrant grey.

"Angela, get him ready."

The duke took a moment to scowl at the children. "And bathe them all. They stink."

"Right away, your highness."

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><p>Alois counted the number of petals on each rose. Boredom. He was sick of waiting for the Duke of Albemarle. Marble walls. Marble columns. Marble floors. Marble statues. Marble and china adorned every corner and corridor of the mansion, as if the establishment was built on them alone. Marble and roses. Linton seemed to have a fetish for roses, even more than the Earl of Trancy himself.<p>

"Master, it would be most inconvenient if the duke saw you in such a position," his butler commented from the side.

The blond lowered his legs from the small table and leaned back against the beige seated chair. Clear eyes stared at the high ceiling. Smiling angels stared back, far out of reach and forever floating above in the artificial heavens.

"Sebastian, I want to punch them."

"Punch who, your highness?"

"Those stupid angels. They look so dumb."

"You do realize that if you were to punch a ceiling, master, you may injure yourself."

"Shut up, demon."

"Yes, your highness."

"When I tell you to shut up, you shut up."

"But if I do that, how will you know if I acknowledged your order or not?"

Portraits of knights and kings. Queens and saints. Each frame was a work of art, an angel carved into each corner. The earl groaned.

"Go to hell, Sebastian."

"Is the master ordering me to go home?"

"Gah! Just shut up!"

"Yes, your highness."

The boy's eyes darted toward the armrest and to his disturbance, saw the face of a cherub carved in the gold. Gold and marble.

_Gold was the old fart's favorite color_

"Earl Trancy," addressed a soft voice.

Alois sat up, turning his attention to the figure walking towards him. It was the same woman that had escorted him in- the maid named Angela, no surname.

"My master, the Duke of Linton expresses his apologies at the delay- he will be with you shortly. In the meantime, allow me to prepare you refreshments."

A delicate china tea set was placed on the table, accompanied by a variety of small sweets. Neither the master nor the butler were attracted by the sight.

"If you don't mind my asking, Angela, what is occupying the duke?"

She stiffened. Sebastian tensed.

"My master is of poor health, earl. He is recovering from a coughing fit."

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><p>Ciel closed his eyes as the dark haired maid took his hat. He opened them again when her hands fell on his cloak.<p>

"Claude will do this," he mentioned quietly. She nodded, eyes downcast before stepping aside to make room for the Phantomhive butler.

A party of maids waited on him, immaculately dressed and heads bowed in unison. Ciel couldn't help but feel that they didn't belong in the servants' costumes- as if they had come out of a Monet painting. The whole estate felt as if it had been crafted from a Renaissance portrait.

Golden figures and marble statues. Delicate columns and painted ceilings. Images of angels and saints.

_I haven't yet seen a family crest. Odd…_

"Earl Phantomhive, please follow us," one of the maids said.

Ciel nodded, allowing the party to lead him through the wide corridors, Claude stone-faced and silent behind him. He finally placed his finger on what seemed so odd, even more than the lack of a crest.

"There are no manservants."

It was a statement.

"Yes. The Duke is not fond of men."

The party, save the leading maid, offered him a bow before departing, upon arriving at the Linton parlor.

* * *

><p>"Earl Trancy, I present the Earl of Phantomhive," the maid introduced, bowing and stepping aside.<p>

Alois felt his eyes widen. That name. It was painstakingly familiar. As if he had heard it a thousand times before. He felt his heartbeat quicken.

_Phantomhive… Phantomhive…_

The earl stepped into the parlor, under the threatening dome of painted angels. Ebony hair and one striking cerulean eye. The jaded expression. The obvious blue blood that filled his veins. _Ciel Phantomhive…_

Alois left the chair and stood to greet the other earl. He wasn't sure what emotion was pounding at his insides. Hatred. Disdain. No. Envy. A coursing familiar envy. He didn't know why.

Earl Phantomhive didn't bother to introduce his servant. The stoic bespectacled butler with golden eyes. For a moment, they made contact. This man was even more familiar than the earl, as if he was the lost thread to a spider's web.

_I know him._

Alois had the strange impression that he liked this man, hated this man, wanted this man, killed this man, regarded him with a variety of emotions. He had seen him before, in some corner of a dream, by his bedside, in some strange illusion, in his arms.

"Earl Phantomhive, have we met?" he asked at last.

The other boy tensed.

"No, I don't believe we have."

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><p>It was a lie. Ciel didn't know why but he knew it was a lie. He had seen the blond earl before. Something about the soft eyes and polite manner had seemed familiar. He knew that face. He knew him.<p>

_Trancy. His name… it's-_

He knew the polite behavior was a guise. The earl had no inkling as to why he thought so but he knew that the other boy was deceiving him, that he had as many secrets as he himself. And he felt nothing but disdain for Earl Trancy.

_Aloi-_

"But I have made the acquaintance of your butler," he added.

Alois' eyes widened. "Really? He never mentioned it." The dissatisfaction was evident in his voice.

"He saved me from a moving carriage. Mr. Sebastian Michaelis, I believe."

"That's his name."

Ciel sat in the chair opposite the older aristocrat. Names. He almost figured out the boy's name.

"Mind telling me why the duke summoned you, earl Trancy?"

"I don't know, Ciel."

A flash of a sword stained with blood. A duel fueled by rage. The thought passed as soon as it had come. Confusion.

"I don't remember introducing my name."

"Ah, I'm sorry. You're very famous, earl."

"Then it's only fair that I call you by your first name, isn't it?"

He remembered.

"Alois?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

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><p><strong>Hope that was to your expectations. <strong>

**Heads up for chapter 7: - how Claude feels about seeing Sebastian (again) and Alois, - what the heck Linton wants, - Angela's plans, - Andrew's debut**

**Something that might show up soon: - a contract between "someone" and "someone" (no OCs involved!)**

**Edit 1/18/13: So we're now all caught up. Chapter 6 onwards will all be new material.**


	6. Of Dukes and Beginnings

**Here it is! The long-awaited chapter 6.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji**

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><p>"Do you feel it too, Michaelis?" Claude asked under his breath, barely an inch apart from the other butler. Like a bird sizing up its prey, Sebastian gave the Phantomhive butler a heated glance.<p>

"I do."

Their masters were sitting around the table, poking the assortment of sweets and chattering away about nothing, acting like masks of formality. Angela had her back turned to them all, silently awaiting the arrival of her lord.

"It's-"

"The maid. I know."

"You act like you know her, _Sebastian_."

Without a word, Sebastian took his gaze to the painted dome, almost as if he was admiring the handiwork. It had been a long time since he had seen such delicate craftsmanship, such passion in the arts. Mortals were funny that way- their passion was enough to rival the immortals, and yet it only lasted so long.

The painted angels were too perfected, as if they had been placed their by one himself...

"No," he said at last, "No, Faustus, I do not know her."

"Angela!" a bright voice called, young and smooth, "I trust that you entertained our guest."

The youth came into view, gray eyes smiling and copper locks curling down his head. The fine delicate face was complimented by a yellow cravat and white coat decorated with golden tresses. Never before had the demons sniffed so pure a soul.

It was fitting to be in heaven then and there. The boy could have passed for an angel.

"It's revolting," Claude muttered.

Sebastian agreed.

* * *

><p>"I apologize for the wait, Earl Phantomhive, Earl Trancy. I am Peter Linton, the Duke of Albemarle."<p>

Ciel watched the taller boy give a lavish bow before extending his hand. With a nod, he shook it. Trancy did the same. The duke was younger than he expected, a lot younger.

"Sit, sit! No need for formalities anymore," the duke ordered, gesturing at the seats.

Immediately, Alois sat down. Ciel did the same, keeping his gaze of Linton the entire time. He was on edge, his nerves not having been this frenzied since the Ripper case.

"Are the treats to your liking, Phantomhive? Trancy?"

"It was-" Ciel began.

"It was alright. My butler does a better job," Alois cut in.

Linton laughed. "I shall talk to the servants about that." The laughter died down and Ciel noticed a slight wince in the duke's eye. A slight tremor in his voice- he was not pleased with Trancy's comment.

But Alois was calm, staring at the duke as if he too was examining the nobleman's every move. _You did it on purpose, Alois_.

"I thought it was wonderful. A lot better than what my cook makes," Ciel said curtly. "Now, can we move on to the issue at hand, your highness?"

"Of course, Phantomhive... But before we start, I trust you two know the tale of Bluebeard?"

"I do." Ciel could care less if Trancy knew. The other boy didn't say a word. Eyes stayed fix on the duke.

Linton's gaze was on Alois as well. And Ciel Phantomhive was just the buffer, the one object there that proved they were in a different situation- yes, he understood now. They knew one another, somehow, somewhere, there was a sense of uncomfortable familiarity.

"There's a man. The Yard assumes it's a man. Baron Kenderson is our main suspect. Five marriages so far- five wives have died- gruesome deaths that you should be familiar with, Phantomhive."

"I don't understand why this requires your intervention."

"Kenderson is an influential man, one that her highness, my aunt, the Queen considers an important ally. But he has more identities than one. Baron Kenderson, English noble, a french comte, a german doctor, and recently, an American playwright. There are more than five marriages. More than five wives. At least more than ten dead women. He has children."

Linton's eyes darkened. "Many children. Some by birth, some stolen. The ones he leaves behind have their tongues chopped off. Had this been any other man, the Yard would handle it themselves... perhaps with the help of one of you. However, he is a master of disguise, a devil of a man, and recently, he's targeted members connected to her Majesty."

_So now it's personal._ "Go on."

Linton flicked his eyes toward the parlor's entrance. "No need. Take a look, both of you."

Ciel did as he was told. A maid walked in, head downcast and mouth a straight line, leading a young boy by the hand. He didn't look older than ten. Dark kempt hair and light blue eyes.

"Is he a Phantomhive?" Alois asked.

Ciel started. "It's just a joke, Ciel."

They exchanged smiles. _Damn you, Trancy_.

Linton stood up and walked over to the boy. He put a hand on the child's head. "This is Andrew, my cousin. He used to be such a bright child. He can't talk now. Our man took his tongue."

"Horrible," Alois said, shaking his head in sympathy.

"But it's not the murders that bother you, is it?" Ciel asked.

Linton stooped and put his hands on Andrew's shoulders, as if inspecting a damaged doll. "Astute, Phantomhive. No, it's the motive behind it. I don't know what's going on. But there's a cult behind it- perverse believers in some kind of fairy tale reanactment. Dark magic is involved here."

He chuckled softly. "I don't expect you two to believe such wild tales of the supernatural, but I do need your help to get behind it. It seems that we're all children here but the Queen's Dog and Spider should be just as reliable as their fathers."

"I'm not one to make judgements, your highness."

Ciel stood up. Andrew's blank stare was fixed on him. "Earl Phantomhive is at your service."

"Thank you, earl."

"Well then, it seems we're done here," Alois said, leaving his seat.

"Wait, Trancy. I do feel so guilty for making you come all the way here. Why don't we have one final round of tea together? Andrew would love the company."

It was Alois' turn to flinch slightly.

"Gladly, your highness." The last two words seemed grinded out.

* * *

><p>Angela oversaw the troop of maids. Dishes in the water. Out the water. Rinse. Wipe.<p>

"You don't want us to touch anything?" Claude asked again, wiping his lenses.

"Yes, it's unfitting for a Trancy butler not to help at another's territory," Sebastian added.

The kitchen was decked in gold and brown, a blend of marble adorned by women in white. The butlers in black stood out like coal in the snow, splashes of night in a world where there was only dawn.

"Please, just stay where you are."

She approached them, and not caring whether or not the others were listening, added loudly, "I wouldn't want you to taint anything here."

Claude's eyes narrowed. "Taint? I am not a third-rate butler, Angela."

Sebastian chuckled coldly. "That's hardly the way I expected such a divine creature to talk."

"Demons," she said softly, "I will not touch your prey if you leave my boy alone."

The disgusting duke of the house. _Like hell I would touch him_. Claude grunted.

"I don't know about Michaelis, but I would not dare."

"And neither would I. That is, if you hold true to your promise, _angel_."

"I always keep my word."

* * *

><p>Alois licked the inside of his cheeks as the carriage jolted. He wasn't in the mood to look outside. Velvet curtains were pulled shut, the darkening sky over head, dreary and unwelcoming. He didn't want to see it.<p>

Damn Linton. Damn Phantomhive.

Something about Ciel Phantomhive annoyed him- he didn't know the boy, and yet he should have. He should have. As for Linton, he was sure he had seen him before. Even the name was familiar.

Peter Piper? No. Peter Pickens. No. He had known a lot of Peters in his life and none of them could match the image of the duke.

There was a certain animosity between them, one that far surpassed the one with Phantomhive. Damn Ciel for agreeing to the stupid case.

"I didn't agree to this."

"I can tell by your glare, your highness."

Sebastian sat opposite him with an equally irritated gaze.

"They call him 'highness' too."

"He is a duke, my lord."

"That makes him higher than me, doesn't it?"

"A lot higher."

"Tsk. Well... what if..."

Alois stood up, the carriage trembling beneath him. He pointed a finger at himself. "Sebastian, this is an order, make me a prince!"

"Physically or metaphorically, master?"

"What do you think, you idiot?"

"I don't know, master. You are very fickle."

"Just do it! I don't care when and I don't care how!"

He fell back in the seat, fuming. Sebastian would usually have smirked. All he did was turn the other way and that was when Alois knew he was not the only one bothered by the visit.

* * *

><p>"Get back in there, you little brat!" Peter growled, throwing Andrew to the ground.<p>

Obeying, the boy crawled back into the basement entrance. The other children were struggling against their chains, moaning for relief. Peter doubled over, clutching his chest and coughing, as Angela went in the dungeon, running soothing hands along each of their faces.

"Their innocence is running out, your highness," she reported, "it might be time to cast them out soon."

"We- we'll keep Andrew right?" he asked, chest heaving.

"Of course."

"Angela, do you think Trancy recognized me?"

"I do."

"And Phantomhive?"

"No. But Andrew was a clever touch, milord."

"We'll get Phantomhive soon, won't we, Angela?"

He was smiling, looking at his servant like a lost child. She nodded, cupping his face. "Then I'll take you with me... we'll go to heaven, Peter, heaven."

"A- and Andrew? He'll come too?"

"Yes, dear."

"Ah, heaven..."

Peter's eyes rolled back. His chest tightened and all went dark.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope that was worth the wait and the OCs were relatively entertaining! Please review (and thank you for clicking).<strong>

**Looks like we're finally spinning into the main plot.**


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